These Small Moments
by Aerija
Summary: A collection of short stories and drabbles including various pairings between F!Avatar x possible spouses. Future chapters will include M!Avatar as well as random shorts.


These Small Moments

1. Clumsy

_Wine is split…_

Robin wandered about Ylisse's royal court, dressed in a tightly fitting gown. In her hand was a glass filled to the brim with the kingdom's finest wine. Bored and slightly aggravated by her clothing, she walked about aimlessly. Not paying any mind to her surroundings, she had walked straight into another; her glass tipping forward as the red liquid fell from its container. Silence filled the room. Robin froze and watched as the drink splashed forward and onto the man in front of her. She watched as the liquid slid down the sleek white silk of his shirt and onto the marble floor.

The surrounding nobles began to mutter amongst themselves, casting several glances her way. Embarrassed, she began to apologize profusely. It was only when her name was spoken that she stopped and looked up. Almost immediately, her face paled.

Chrom, her king and commander, stood in front of her. His lips were slightly parted, as if to say more, but she interrupted, "Gods, Chrom—I mean, milord. I hadn't meant to—" He held up a hand, silencing her effectively.

"A word if you please," he said, sternly. She gulped, nervous. Gods, it was only her luck to have split wine on the _king_ of Ylisse.

Chrom wrapped an arm around her shoulder, causing a slight blush to form on her face. "Chrom," she hissed softly, "just _what_ are you doing?"

"Shh," he replied. "I'm getting us out of here," he whispered back. The crowd parted as he maneuvered them out of the room and into a nearby hall. Once effectively out of sight, the two parted. Chrom then began to laugh.

"Just _what_ are you laughing about?" Robin snapped. "I just split wine on the _king_ of Ylisse."

"Y-you're face," he gasped. "It was hilarious."

"W-what!" She indignantly hissed. "That's not a laughing matter. A king shouldn't be laughing about this like some fool," she argued, pouting slightly.

"But friends do, don't they?" he responded, smiling. Off put by his answer, she muttered, "Perhaps if this were a bar…"

"Come now, Robin," Chrom chuckled. "Perhaps you'd accompany me on a walk through the courtyard? The moon is lovely at night." She glared at him.

"Shouldn't you be returning to the court, _milord_?" she emphasized.

"Well I certainly cannot in this condition," he gestured at his ruined shirt. "And it was quite an expensive shirt too," he sighed, fingering the now red silk. Robin gulped guiltily. Noticing her expression, he added on, "Think of it as payment for the shirt, then."

She sighed in defeat, "I suppose you win then." He offered his hand in which she accepted hesitantly. Chrom chuckled at her behavior.

"Gods, how embarrassing," Robin muttered, turning her head away.

She could not fathom how she had fallen for someone who did not act in the least bit as a king.

2. Falling

_Dancing at night is proven to be dangerous…_

"Like this, Inigo?" she asked, following his instruction.

"Y-yes, just like that," he stuttered, placing a hand underneath her arm and raising it slightly. "N-now you're feet have to be spread slightly apart, like this," he instructed. Robin followed, matching his movement verbatim.

"Is this correct?" she asked, swiveling her head backwards. Inigo blushed and replied, "Yes, yes—just stop looking at me!"

"Well how am I supposed to learn how to dance if I can't look at you?" Robin huffed, annoyed.

"You're the one who's forcing me to do this…" Inigo muttered unhappily.

"Oh, is that so?" she teased, smirking slightly. "If I am correct, _you_ said you'd do anything _I _asked." Inigo groaned, remembering the situation entirely.

It was only a few days past that he was caught in the forest at the dead of night. He had snuck off when the majority of the Shepherds were asleep in order to practice his dancing. Of course, he had not realized that he was followed; nor, did he realize that his stalker, as he'd like to call it, saw everything. Embarrassed beyond his senses, he had swore the tactician to secrecy and made the mistake of offering a bribe in return.

A bribe, in which, he sorely regretted.

"Hurry up, Inigo, it's getting late," Robin urged, seeing as how the moon was rising higher and higher into the sky.

"D-don't rush me," he stammered. "N-now, this next move is quite tricky." He placed both his hands on her waist. He then froze, a thousand and one things going through his mind. Like, for instance, how close the two were and how his fingers pressed into soft cloth than armor and that she lacked her usual cloak, which had kept her hidden for the most part and—Gods, what a mess this had turned out. Though Inigo had flirted with women before, he had never been so _intimate_ with one before. He then panicked. What should he do? He had never had such luck before, so why now? He was not ready; no he definitely was not—

"Inigo?" a voice broke his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Er, yes," he coughed. "As I was saying…" He then began to guide her, slowly relaxing into his role. Unconsciously, his hands slowly began traveling upwards. It was only when he squeezed a bit too tight that she squeaked. Inigo immediately stood rigid, letting go as if he were holding hot iron. He stepped back and began to jabber a sort of apology.

Robin however, began to teeter dangerously as Inigo was the only one holding her up. "Ack!" In one swift movement she fell backwards, slamming into Inigo as well. The two landed onto the forest grass with a loud thump. 

Inigo lay on the grass, dazed, wondering how one woman could weigh so much. Robin, who had received the lesser of the impact, turned worryingly and asked, "Inigo, are you hurt?" He merely groaned in response.

He was definitely not ready.

3. Flower

_The masked knight is unable to convey his feelings…_

It was such a simple act. All he needed to do was hand her the bouquet, easy. To Gerome however, the act was much more than simple. Whenever he taught of her—smiling, shining, his complete opposite—he could not help but wish to flee. Whenever he took two steps closer, he took five steps back. It was just not easy.

So here he stands at the dead of night. A bouquet of daisies, lavender, and a mixed assortment of other things in one hand, another poised as if to raise the flap of her tent. Then he would stop, take a step back, then another, turn around, and walk back to his own tent. It could wait until tomorrow night, he thought.

Hopefully the flowers were not wilted by then. It had been five days since he last bought them.

4. Heroes

_Even the greatest of heroes were weak…_

It was absolutely embarrassing. To Owain, a young man raised on the tales of great heroes and adventurers alike, it was just too embarrassing. Here he was lying in the mud, bested by a woman. Although to be fair, she was a tactician.

Robin smirked, wooden sword in hand. "Perhaps now you'll listen to what I've been saying," she said.

"Ahem, perhaps I shouldn't have suddenly revealed my plan of attack so soon," he coughed, picking himself up. Robin sighed, "You take after your father in that respect—always rushing in without paying any mind to the consequences."

"My father was—is—a great warrior," Owain defended.

"He's strong, I cannot deny that, but the man will get himself killed to carelessness," Robin said, shaking her head all the while. She began to put her wooden sword away. "Poor Lissa is always fretting over him."

When she did not receive a response, Robin turned to face Owain. He stood rigid, his hand clutched tightly around his own sword. "Owain," she said softly, approaching him. "Are you alright?" she placed a hand on his shoulder.

After a while, he responded, "That's why… That's why I have to become the hero, so I can save him and mother."

"Oh, Owain," Robin sighed, reaching up to pull the young man in for a hug. "That's why you're here, isn't it?"

He began to cry quietly into the nook of her shoulder. Heroes were still human after all.

5. Sharing

_Sharing is caring, you know…_

Robin learned that, in the recent weeks, she loved chocolate. Being in a war and all, there were no shops nearby that sold the sweet. Of course there was Anna, but the tactician refused to pay the merchant and her sisters 200 bullion for a piece of it. There was absolutely no way.

Instead, she would bother Gaius. The orange-haired man was always carrying some form of candy around—Gods know how he kept it unspoiled—and that included chocolate. The thief would always relent to her constant pestering, so she could not figure out for the life of her _why_ he refused now.

"Sorry, Bubbles, but I had a tough time trying to get this. You're going to have to find someone else," Gaius stepped back, avoiding the tactician's hand.

"Why not? You're a thief," he raised an eyebrow at this. "Surely, you could just get more later?" she insisted, eyeing the piece.

"No way, nuh-uh, no-can-do," he replied. To prove his point, he bit down on one end of the small sweet. "See?"

Robin pouted. It had been far too long since she last ate any, she could not let this opportunity escape. Mustering her courage, she bent down and jumped up. She bit the other end of the sweet, their lips slightly brushing.

"T-there? It wasn't that hard," She stuttered, faced turned at an angle.

Gaius gaped for a moment before smirking. "_Oh Bubbles._"

6. Swear

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…_

"Virion."

"Yes, my love?"

"If I see you flirt with another woman again—and Gods forbid—I _swear_ I will castrate you myself."

"… Yes, milady."

7. Traitor

_Love was a dizzying spell…_

The night was solemn. The fire was long since put out and most everyone had returned to their shared tents, tired and wary. Robin sat on her cot, replaying the day's event inside her head. She turned the gold band on her finger nervously.

"Robin?" She startled slightly. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Yes I'm fine, Frederick," she replied. "It's just," she hesitated, glancing at her ring once more.

"Does it concern today's events?" he asked, wary. She froze for a moment before nodding. He sighed and moved to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and took hand into his, massaging her palm with the flat of his thumb. "It will be alright, my love. Everything will go well."

"Frederick," she said soberly, removing her hand from his. "Promise me," her voice quivered, "promise me that will kill me should my body ever betray my mind."

He breathed in sharply. She spoke again, "Swear to me that you will protect Chrom, regardless of who your enemy is."

Frederick stared blankly ahead, unable to formulate a response. He finally replied, "I-I cannot."

"It is your duty," Robin stated, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.

Frederick did not respond and instead brought her closer to him, resting his head on top hers. Closing his eyes, he then whispered, "I would rather be branded a traitor than kill you."

8. Duty-Bound

_He will forever be faithful to his lord…_

Chrom was his king and he, Frederick, was his knight. He was forever bound to his lord, obeying his every command; relenting to his every demand. Never had he felt resentment towards him—the boy who he had seen grown into a man.

Despite these feelings however, he could not help but feel the slightest bit of anger towards the man he so greatly respected, as he watched her walk farther and farther from him, white dress dragging across a red carpet.

For a moment, he had wished he had followed his own selfish desires rather his lord's.

9. Children

_Bunnies are adorable, 'nuff said…_

"Yarne?" she asked, tapping the surface of her stomach.

"Yes?" he replied, his eyes slightly closed.

"I want five," she said.

"Five-what?" he hummed, enjoying the soft breeze.

"Maybe six," she then said.

"Six-what?" he hummed once more, dozing off underneath the summer's sun.

"Children, of course," she said matter-o-factly.

"W-WHAT!" he sputtered, his eyes wide and his back turned rigid.

"If they look anything like you, then they'll be adorable," she giggled.

10. Glad

_Days like these were a gift from the future…_

Lon'Qu shifted slightly as his wife turned in her sleep. She mumbled quietly before going still. Morgan, who had insisted on sleeping with his parents, clung to his mother's side, snoring softly. The one-year old had always had a strong affect for his mother, and it only grew as time passed.

Lon'Qu brought the two closer to him, content and drowsy. Morgan kicked at his hand, while Robin snorted from the sudden movement. The former gladiator chuckled. To think that his future would be filled with days like these—secure, happy—for this, he was glad.

11. Protection

_To feel safe in a father's hold was the greatest feeling in the world…_

"Do you think," Lon'Qu hesitated, "do you think he hates me?"

"What?" Robin looked up, surprised by her husband's question. "Why would you think that?" In her arms was Morgan, wrapped up in a warm fleece bundle. The infant laid against his mother's chest, dozing off.

"He would always cry whenever I hold him."

"No he doesn't," she replied, bouncing the baby in her hands gently. "Here, hold him."

"Er, I would rather not." He then took a step back, his arms only slightly outstretched.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked, confused by his response,

"I'm afraid of… hurting him," he said softly, looking down at their now-sleeping son.

"That's complete nonsence—here," she gently forces the infant into his arms. Morgan stirred slightly, before returning to his slumber. "See? He hasn't cried at all."

The former gladiator stared down in amazement, grasping his son's hand, marveling at how frail he seemed. "It's…" he was at a lost for words.

Robin then wrapped her arms around him. "He knows his father, and he knows you'll keep him safe. So don't be afraid, Lon'Qu."

12. Life

_The birth of a new princess…_

Chrom was elated when their daughter was born. His wife, however, could not share the same amount of vigor, as she was exhausted and did not imagine birthing to be so painful. Still, her eyes gleamed with pride only a mother could have.

After she was washed and fed, Robin held the newborn close to her breast, amazed by this new life she and her husband created. She was tiny and light—much lighter than the sword she carried—and new and soft and vulnerable. Robin was suddenly overcome by emotion as she held the little one.

Chrom, upon seeing his wife's fragile condition, gently took their child into his own stronger arms. By now, the newborn's eyes were open and darting about the room—from the walls, to the doors, to the ceiling, and then to her father. She took in his smiling face, though she has yet to know why, and his ruffled blue hair. He felt a surge of pride jolt through his bones and to his chest, as he gazed down at his daughter and chuckled at her blank expression. She then began to struggle within his grasp.

"She must be hungry," he said, and handed her back to her mother, who was now calmer than before.

"Yes," Robin sniffed, "She must be."

After a while, Chrom asked, "What should we name her?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought much about it until now," Robin admitted.

Chrom nearly suggested the name 'Emmeryn' in honor of his dead sister, but rejected the idea as soon as it came. He did not wish for his child to live in her shadow, nor does he wish his child to become a ghost of the former exalt. However, he was reminded of another figure that remained a light in his and Lissa's life—Lucinda. She was the siblings' strict, yet motherly nursemaid who cared for the two when neither their parents nor Emmeryn were there to guide them. His fondest memory of the old woman consisted of soft, buttery biscuits lathered with apple jam she would bake solely for him and Lissa. Though the elderly nursemaid passed away years ago, he could still remember the scolding he would receive whenever he broke something.

"How about Lucina?" he suggested. It was a variation of Lucinda, though the change was nearly insignificant.

"Lucina…" Robin muttered fondly. She gazed at the tuft of dark hair on their daughter's head, which would fall off in a month or so, only to be replaced with the trademark color of the royal Ylissean family—another reminder of the family's duty to uphold the peace. "My little Lucina…" Robin smiled, bouncing the baby in her arms. "It's perfect."

_/line break/_

**And this concludes the first part of a many short stories/drabbles/little things. The second part will include more characters including M!Avatar and, hopefully, the rest of the FE13 crew.**

**So which one was your favorite? ;)**

**Please review! Feed back and criticism is much appreciated (seriously, if you see any grammatical errors or whatnot, feel free to point them out; I'm more than willing to edit). Those being said, feel free to suggest some ideas as well (I'm a human too, you know; not some rabbit that poops out ideas like pellets).**


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